


No Time For Naps

by starspangledmanwithaplan



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: F/M, Kissing, Language, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Sassy, Sensuality, Sparring, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21989866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starspangledmanwithaplan/pseuds/starspangledmanwithaplan
Summary: Steve switches things up and has you spar with Clint, the man you have a giant crush on. What could possibly go wrong?
Relationships: Clint Barton/Reader, Clint Barton/You, clint barton/female reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 88





	No Time For Naps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Omni_Princess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Omni_Princess/gifts).

> This is written for @the-omni-princess Writing Challenge on Tumblr.

The first time Clint sparred with Natasha at the same time as you and Bucky was the only thing that made the normally monotonous day remotely memorable. It was also the first time that Bucky had been able to take you down. It was now six months later and Bucky had no plans on letting you forget about it.

You had been stretching for almost twenty minutes, limbering up, getting ready to spar with Bucky, whenever he decided to show up. Currently, you were bent at the waist, arms over your head, palms pressed flat to the mat when Steve approached. 

“Y/N, we’re gonna switch things up a bit. You’ll be training with Clint today,” he instructed.

Your instinct was to stand up quickly, but the headache wouldn’t have been worth it. You let out a breath and stood slowly, leveling Steve with a none-too-friendly glare. “Bucky and I are going on a mission in a couple days. Why change it up?”

Steve shrugged while Clint, who was standing off to the side, seemed completely oblivious to your frustrated tone. “ _ That _ mission has been moved up, and Bucky and I are going.”

“What? That’s  _ my _ mission, Steve,” you snapped. 

“Yeah, well, there’s been a change of plans and you’re not going,” he sighed, eyes narrowed. He spun away from you and walked away as you rolled your eyes.

It wasn’t because you didn’t like Clint. The problem was that you liked him a little too much. He was tall and wide, thick in all the right places and then some. What? The man wore sweats when he worked out and certain body parts were easier to spot. Besides, you weren’t upset with Clint, you were  _ actually _ upset because it was to be your first mission without the rest of the team. Going with Bucky, it made you feel as if you had  _ finally _ gained some of that faith and trust Steve so scarcely handed out.

“So… how do you wanna do this?” you huffed, arms crossed, eyebrow arched.

Dark green eyes flew up to yours. “Do what?”

“You know what… never mind.” You spun on your heel and started for the door. There were better things to do than stand there and lay out exactly what you wanted Clint to do to you…  _ with _ you! Fuck, this was going to be more difficult than you thought.

“Wait,” Clint called after you, walking fast. 

When his hand landed on your shoulder you made the decision to use it to your advantage.You reached back and grabbed his wrist. Before he could go on the defense, you spun on your heels, effectively twisting his arm almost to the breaking point, and arched your brow. 

“Come on, then,” you taunted.

A smirk played with his lips and god dammit if that didn’t light a fire in your belly. You relaxed your grip, allowing Clint to slip free so the two of you could circle each other, a predatory gleam in your eyes. Whether it was because you didn’t believe everything you heard about the seasoned archer or what, he moved faster than you thought he could. You traded blows, each one ducking or deflecting the punch or kick from the other a split-second before it would have connected. And, for a while, you held your own, but all the years Clint had under his belt, all the stamina he had built up helped him grow weary a lot less easier than you.

Clint lunged, and try as you might, you couldn’t get away fast enough. One arm was around your stomach as he spun you, and the other was at your neck. His chest heaved against your back and hot breath blasted on your shoulders. You tried to get loose, God knew you did, but no amount of pulling on his arms or wriggling your body made a damn bit of difference. Scratch that. It didn’t make a bit of difference in helping you get out of the situation. However, it did make a difference in the way your bodies reacted to each other.

The rise and fall of your chest began to sync up with his and you fought the urge to relax the muscles in your neck, to let your head fall back and rest on his shoulder. Your ass was planted firmly against his thighs and the way they were twitching made it impossible to focus on the task at hand: sparring. What made it even more difficult was the thick line of his arousal at the small of your back.

You risked a glance over your shoulder and found that his eyes were resting on the swell of your sweat-dampened breasts. Turned out the sports bra you were wearing wasn’t covering all of your assets, and as much as you liked the way your body molded into Clint’s, you wanted something to brag about. Moving lightning fast, you bent at the waist and threw him over your head.

He landed on his ass with a grunt and stared up at you with confusion etched deep into his features. “What the…,” he managed to grind out.

Your body was humming with want and overexertion as you bent at the waist and rested your hands on your knees, giving him a front-row view of your breasts. “Can’t let distractions get the best of you, Clint.”

“That’s my girl,” shouted Sam, who had just been taken down by an exuberant Natasha.

Before you could bask in your pride any longer, Clint surged up and tackled you to the floor, landing heavily between your legs. Despite the ache in your tailbone, you chuckled. 

“If you wanted to get me on my back, Barton, all you had to do was ask,” you teased, voice low and husky. 

Clint sputtered and shoved himself up. “I didn’t… I  _ don’t _ -”

“Relax,” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “I was only teasing. Besides, who knew you could move  _ that _ fast?”

Clint’s eyes were heavy on you as you stood, as you rubbed your tailbone with your palm. “ **With great power… comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.** ” And with that, he high-tailed it out of the room, leaving you completely confused, and honestly, a bit… hurt.

Had you completely misread things and ended up scaring him away with your boldness? No, you know what? Fuck that. You liked Clint, and if he didn’t feel  _ some sort of way _ about you, he definitely would  _ not _ have been rock-hard against you like he was mere moments ago. You ground your teeth and took off after him, running down the hall and around the corner. 

“What the hell was that, Barton?” you shouted when you caught sight of him at the elevators. 

“What was  _ what _ ?”

You glared at him as you came to a stop. “You know damn well,  _ what _ . Don’t act stupid. It doesn’t look good on you.” 

Clint scraped a hand over his face and sighed. “I… I’m too old for you, kid.”

“First of all,” you ticked up a finger, “don’t call me  _ kid _ .” The elevator doors opened and you hurried after Clint. “Secondly, I like you, and I  _ know _ you like me.” 

“We work together, Y/N. Of course I like you.”

You rolled your eyes and fought the urge to stomp your foot. “That’s why your dick got hard and you looked at my tits, because we  _ work together _ ?”

“Damn it,” he grumbled. “That’s not… we can’t, okay?”

“Why not?” Before he could answer, you quickly added, “And don’t say it’s because you’re too old for me or some other bullshit.”

Clint’s stormy eyes met yours and he shook his head. “It’s not a good idea. If any of them find out…”

“Them? The team?”

“No,  _ them _ .”

Realization crashed onto you like a wave. “The bad guys.” You risked a step closer and brushed your hand against his. 

Clint turned his hand and slipped his fingers between yours. “If something were to happen to you, I… I don’t know what I’d do.”

“You think I don’t feel the same way?” When he didn’t answer you, you pressed the emergency stop button and peered up at the man now bathed in red light. “Clint, every time you go on a mission, I’m scared you’re not coming back, and I know that if you let me in,  _ if _ we pursue this, there’s always going to be a chance that something bad will happen. But I think that if we don’t -”

“Shut up, already,” Clint murmured before kissing you, and there was nothing gentle or tentative about it. His tongue was in your mouth, tangling with yours, battling it for dominance before sucking it deep into his mouth.

You swallowed his moans, echoing with your own as he backed you against the wall, hands on your ribs and hips, lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, gripping tight to his shoulders with one hand, the other in his hair, nails against his scalp. Thick fingers dug deep into your ass as Clint rocked you against him. 

Unbridled want roared through you, flushing your skin, causing you to moan his name, low and heavy. It was at that moment you noticed the elevator was no longer bathed in a red light and the doors were open. Steve stood there, just inside the doors, his arms crossed, and he was struggling to smother a smirk. 

“Change in plans,” he announced. “Suit up, Y/N. You’re coming with.”

“Really?” You didn’t know if you were excited or pissed off because you going on a mission would  _ definitely _ delay any further intimacy with Clint. 

“You, too, Barton. Just… keep all of that,” he motioned to you and Clint, “on lock-down. I need you focused.” 

You were trying so hard not to jump up and down. “You got it, Cap.”

“We leave in two hours.” 

Once Steve turned away you pushed your arms into the air and let out a shriek, one that turned shrill as Clint picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. 

“Barton, what in the  _ hell  _ do you think you’re doing?”

“Stop wriggling.” Clint smacked your ass. “You heard the man; we leave in two hours, which means we have  _ plenty _ of time.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Aaaaand, if I have to spell it out for you, maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” Clint set you on your feet outside of his room, dragging your body down the full length of his. 

You bit your lower lip and looked at him through your lashes, fingers toying with the string of his sweats. “It’s a good idea, Clint.” 

He crowded you against the door. “But?”

Heat blossomed in your chest, flushing your skin, settled between your legs. “But the handcuffs are in my room.”

Clint’s eyes went wide as he swallowed several times. “Well then, lead the way,” he purred, moving out of the way and smacking your ass. 

Something Clint said earlier popped into your head. “But what about your nap?” you asked as you crossed the hall.

“No time for naps,” he muttered, standing behind you as you opened the door to your room. “I’ll nap later.”

“What about the mission?”

Clint’s eyes went dark as he towered over you. “Woman, if you don’t get in that room I’m gonna -”

You grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him, tugging him into your room and kicking the door shut. 


End file.
